


(En)Tangled

by QuillFeathers



Series: Woven Together [2]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: A lot of kissing, Enthusiastic Consent, Established Relationship, F/M, Female My Unit | Byleth, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Porn with Feelings, Post-Blue Lions Route (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, never thought i'd use that tag, pre S-support, somehow playfulness snuck in here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-29
Updated: 2019-09-29
Packaged: 2020-10-29 15:54:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20799182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuillFeathers/pseuds/QuillFeathers
Summary: Here they are again. The same place they had been the night of her confession, before he'd first come to her himself. Her offering him her heart with the ghost of a kiss. Except now she can feel him shaking and it's not because he is struggling to hold her up.Dimitri continues to hold himself back. Byleth is determined to get past this final snag between them.





	(En)Tangled

**Author's Note:**

> This can be read either as a stand-alone work or within [(Un)Tangled](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20400979/chapters/48389497) between chapters 3 & 4.

He's late again.

Putting the letters she had just finished writing off to the side Byleth leans back in her chair to stretch stiff arms above her head. She wonders where she should look first, eyes drifting to the window to gauge how late it really was. The days were growing longer, grass peeking through the thawing ground around Garreg Mach. Spring was on its way.

It's not that she expects Dimitri to follow some sort of curfew, but it'd be nice if he put some effort into maintaining any semblance of a sleep schedule. Dedue was pretty reliable these days in making sure he didn't train too long into the evening, and there hadn't been any new visitors to entertain that day, which meant Dimitri was either lost in paperwork somewhere (again) or someone had stopped him on the way up to the third floor. Slipping boots back on Byleth heads downstairs.

She doesn't have to look far at all. Gilbert and the man in question are about halfway down the hall, each holding an end of a map to flatten it out on the wall between them. Dimitri is currently pointing at something, his knight nodding along in agreement. Crossing her arms Byleth stops a ways away, but neither of them look her direction.

Workaholics.

She clears her throat loudly and starts forward again. “The meeting about the stops we will make on the way to Fhirdiad is tomorrow,” she muses aloud, voice bouncing down the corridor, “or so I thought.”

Gilbert leans back to peer around the king. “Ah, it appears we have been caught.”

“The stops _we_ will make?” Dimitri repeats a second later, forehead crinkling in confusion.

Byleth raises her chin. Challenging. “Of course I'm going with you. It's not that long a trip and I've already spoken with Seteth. I was going to let everyone know at the meeting. Tomorrow.”

The king's single eye brightens, dropping his side of the map so Gilbert can re-roll it. “Yes alright, point made. Tomorrow morning, then,” he nods to the older man.

“Apologies for keeping you waiting,” Gilbert concurs, bowing to them both before heading towards the stairs to the ground floor.

And by that of course he means that he knows he's kept Dimitri.

The vast majority of the monastery was under the impression that the king and archbishop often took tea together sometime after dinner, but it'd be a lie if the two of them claimed it was merely conversation along with it. It'd taken Byleth kissing him in addition to reflecting his own advice back at himself (in regards to following her heart), but for the last week Dimitri had come to her room almost every evening. That first night she had let (or rather pulled) him into her bed it had been purely on the notion that he needed a full night's sleep. He'd showed up at her door exhausted—physically and likely emotionally thanks to her tugging and twisting on the knot that was his heart—and they had both slept better beside one another.

There had been plenty more kissing since, but nothing more physically intimate.

Byleth _wants_ him. Yet Dimitri had held himself in check. Snagged between what he desired and what he thought he deserved. He'd been in darkness for a long time, and despite having stepped into the light still retreated into shadow sometimes. The last months of the war had been a distraction more than help after that first step in the rain when he'd taken her hands. The reality of his position and a somewhat normal existence was overwhelming some days. Blinding. So she waited: brought meals up when he skipped them, offered a sparring match when she could tell he needed a break from hours at a desk, and kept nightmares at bay with her presence.

“How did you convince Seteth to approve of your coming to the capital?” Dimitri asks now, hands clasped in hers as she leads the way back upstairs.

“Since you're making stops I get to...what did he say...show the church's support. And it will be good for me to be in Fhirdiad at least once prior to the official coronation.”

“I see. And I am sure you had not even thought about the opportunity it presented to see Annette, Felix, Sylvain...”

“Huh...” Byleth smirks over her shoulder, stepping through the door to her quarters. “Maybe I should write to Mercedes. It will be good for everyone.”.

“It will,” Dimitri concurs, a real smile on his face.

She hasn't let go of him, looking up. “You know,” she says with an innocent tilt of her head, “It's come to my attention that our height difference is entirely unfair when it comes to trying to kiss you spontaneously.”

He hesitates a fraction (as he often did) before bending down to touch their lips together, Byleth stretching up on her toes to steal another before he pulls back too far. She still doesn't let go.

“You know,” Dimitri echoes, “It's come to my attention that you've been teasing me much too often lately.”

There's a stretch where they just look at each other—mischievous smirk matched to an amused blue eye—and maybe it's because she has just revealed that they'd be traveling together or maybe just because he was sleeping better, but Dimitri bends down further to effortlessly lift her by the waist without warning. Byleth lets out an undignified yelp, arms flying around his neck. The sound makes him dissolve into laughter, joy to her ears as she tilts forward to capture him a third time. Confident he won't stumble with the shift in weight she brazenly hoists her legs up loosely over his hips, his grip automatically shifting to the bend of her knee.

“Too easy not to,” Byleth provokes, head tilting but keeping herself an inch away.

And then he is pressing forward fiercely, teeth pulling lightly at her bottom lip and then her tongue, licking into her mouth. There’s a familiar explosion of adoration. Warmth in her chest. Giddy is an emotion she does not really know what to do with but it buzzes through her mind along with her nerves, as efficient as Dimitri is at stealing her breath. Alight with his fingers catching on the thin fabric of her tights and the moan he lets slip when she digs her fingers into his scalp, making quick work of the clasps at his shoulders to let his cape fall to the floor. She doesn't even realize they're moving until her back hits the wall. Unintentionally her nails scrape down his neck at the impact and he practically growls low in his throat. She follows the shiver that runs down his spine down the back of his shirt as far as she can reach, dragging herself up against him.

“Byleth...” Forehead dropping to her sternum he breaks away.

Here they are again. The same place they had been the night of her confession, before he'd first come to her himself. Her offering him her heart with the ghost of a kiss. Except now she can feel him shaking and it's not because he is struggling to hold her up.

“Do you still doubt that I love you?” she asks, leaning backwards to rest her head on the wall. Putting a bit of space between them.

“I still sometimes wonder if you should.”

“I think loving you is my choice, love.” She feels him swallow, sees the dilation of his eye when he raises his head back up to look at her. “When have I not welcomed your touch?”

Offered reassurance. The warmth of her hands. Over and over.

“I do love you,” is whispered at her ear, pressed to her temple and then to her lips. “I am sorry I have held myself back from saying it.”

“You have said it in other ways,” Byleth says just as quietly, resting one hand over his heart. “Now are you going to drop me if I start to take your shirt off?”

He laughs, face scrunching up. “You're terrible.” The instant blush is there, too, but he's gripping her tighter to step away from the wall, carrying her across the room while she attempts to get under his clothing.

Even without the armor he's still in layers from the day. Byleth's just barely gotten to brush the bare skin of his side before he's setting her down carefully on the bed and stepping away to finish the job himself. She is just as fast with the garments covering her own torso, however unfortunately for him she's wearing much less to begin with. When he pulls his undershirt over his head she's perched on the topmost blanket with nothing left above her waist, face coloring at the intensity of his gaze. She's crowding right back into his personal space when he joins her; cupping his face in her hands and kissing him again, leading him further onto the bed so there's no risk of them toppling to the floor. When he leans back to sit she crawls forward to straddle his lap, both of them reaching for each other again as soon as she settles. An affirmation. Appreciation exchanged in quickened breath and a hammering heart. Two sets of hands free to explore exposed heated skin. Byleth hums appreciatively when he finds her breast, busy mapping the muscled planes of his chest and stomach. Arching into his touch and making soft mewls of approval she has to break away with a sharp inhale when he pinches her nipple.

“_Dimitri_” tumbles from her; pleading, hips rolling forward, relishing the low moan that escapes him. His other hand is squeezing her leg and she can feel his arousal pressed against her inner thigh. The thought of him finally letting himself have her like this sends another thrill through Byleth. Rising higher on her knees she grabs at his elbow to pull the hand at her chest down, just past the top of her shorts.

Dimitri raises his head, a question unbelievably threatening to furrow his brow.

“Beyond certain.” she assures. Looping an arm around his shoulders for purchase she expertly tugs what remains of her clothing down her legs and off with a coy smile for emphasis.

One of his arms slides to her waist, the other finally dropping between her legs and skimming through the wetness there. Byleth groans, covering his hand with her own, rocking her hips to urge him on—in—slipping past wet folds. She doesn't stop moving; guides him into a pace she wants, biting her own lip while his thumb rubs around her clit. It doesn't silence her moan when he adds a second finger unasked, curling both forward. Byleth yanks him into a messy kiss, walls clenching at the delicious friction. Dimitri swallows the other noises she makes, seeking to drag along that spot again and again until she's panting into his mouth.

“Goddess...you're so beautiful,” rasped against her jaw he rolls them both over fluidly, sitting back up to shed the rest of his clothes.

Gaze heady Byleth watches. Arms resting above her head and stretched out below him she can't keep still, legs shifting on the sheets. His flush is terribly attractive, and her arm starts to reach down her own stomach but the blond snatches it away by the wrist.

“A tease _and_ impatient.” He leans back over her, gripping one of her thighs, centering himself.

She can't help the breathy laugh that escapes. “I think I've been plenty patient.”

“I suppose you have.”

She will always wait for him.

He sinks into her in a steady push, punching a groan out of himself and a tense moan that teeters on a whine from Byleth. He watches her intently again, slow rocks escalating to longer thrusts as they find a rhythm.

“Mmm. Perfect.” Reaching up she brushes the locks of hair that have fallen forward behind his ear. He leans his head into the touch.

“Re...lentless...” and the huskiness in that voice makes her squirm. Shifting his weight to one arm he sets the other at the curve of her back, lifting her closer. The angle changes just enough that the next thrust slides against her just right.

“Di-aah!” Tossing her head to the side she latches a hand around his arm, mouth dropping open at the increased sensation. His efforts quicken in response; snapping forward to draw another high-pitched noise of pleasure from her, tongue and teeth instantly at her throat. She rather hopes he leaves more bruises. Memories for the morning. The thought makes more heat pool between her legs, and she lifts them to wrap around Dimitri for leverage to meet his movements, his name hitching out of her again.

Neither of them lasts long. The want has been kept to a simmer for too long, now fed up to a blaze with gasps and moans echoing in the room. Byleth gets a hand between them, on herself, dissolving into trembling legs and whispered urging: love and good and once _let go_. Dimitri shakes to pieces around her, head falling to her shoulder to muffle his own last noises as he reaches his peak. It's too much for her. The sound of his voice breaking, her name stuttered out as he spends himself in her. She follows over the edge, mind blanking to white hot abandon.

Dimitri rests atop her for a minute, pulling out with a slight grimace but unwilling to move further. Byleth idly traces patterns into the skin of his back, his arms, lingering when she finds the edges of his newest scar. The one carved out by a dagger. He still has many she does not know the origin of but she hopes he's willing to tell her about some of them. He was still healing, would need years to truly distance himself from the war let alone the rest of his past.

“I love all of you,” she murmurs to the ceiling. “It's not a question or something to ponder. It's just that I do.”

He stirs at her voice, dropping to her side just to pull her over to encircle her in his arms. “At what point, I wonder, did you decide to let me dig a home in your heart?”

Byleth hums, tucking a foot between his legs. She remembers him describing her presence as comforting. Remembers resolving to prove to him that he deserved to live for himself while they stood in the rain. Remembers how she had walked up the steps to find him lost and had wanted nothing more than to have him feel the warmth of the sun.

“Maybe when you told me that you loved seeing me smile.”

“That was—”

“—a long time ago.” 

A chuckle. “You do keep bringing it up.”

The scars would fade but always be there. Always linger. But it didn't have to be entirely in haunting. She can feel Dimitri smiling now, as sure as her blood running through her veins (no beating heart required), and revels in their entangled future.

Byleth tilts her head up for one more kiss—winter's last snowfall melting in their warmth.

**Author's Note:**

> Byleth telling Dimitri that she loves him for all he is and convincing him that he is worthy of that love - I'm glad it's a theme that the fandom seems to agree on, and oh man do I love getting to write a confident Byleth.
> 
> I caved and am on Twitter to indulge in all the FE3H fandom. [@o3QuillFeathers](https://twitter.com/o3QuillFeathers)


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